


The Woman Next Door

by filmFreak1



Series: The Christenfield Saga [3]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, ChristenField, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, Never Have I Ever, Post-Save Arcadia Bay Ending, Sexual Content, Years Later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25542751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filmFreak1/pseuds/filmFreak1
Summary: Several years after saving Arcadia Bay, Max Caulfield ran into her former Blackwell classmate Taylor Christensen.  They fell in love, and eventually began a serious relationship.  Months later, they now share an apartment, and their life together seems to be a mostly happy one.  But all of that may soon change when someone from Taylor's past moves in next door.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Steph Gingrich, Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Taylor Christensen, Taylor Christensen/Steph Gingrich
Series: The Christenfield Saga [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1487858
Comments: 59
Kudos: 28





	1. Trouble on the Horizon

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to two previous fics of mine, An Unexpected Reacquaintance and Heading North. While it is certainly helpful to have read both, I have attempted to write this story in a way that it should not be necessary.
> 
> I started writing this fic before the COVID-19 crisis became widespread in the United States, and therefore will not be depicting it, as I have decided it would be too difficult to alter the story to incorporate it. As with the previous two fics, I am deliberately nebulous about when exactly this one takes place, but I would probably place it sometime around present day, give or take a couple years. For now, you can assume that the story takes place before or after the crisis, or in a timeline where it never happened.

The stain was about a foot in length, pink (or perhaps a faded red), and roughly crescent-shaped—like a warped bloody smile. It lay about a foot and a half from where the carpet bordered with the tiled floor of the kitchen.

"It freaks me out," said Taylor. She was crouched down, staring at it. "You think it might be blood?"

The skinny, elderly black man standing behind her used one hand to lean on his cane and the other to push his horn-rimmed glasses up on his face. Glancing over the blond woman's shoulder, he slowly shook his head. "Nah. That's wine, probably. Or perhaps Kool-Aid." He spoke in his usual deep, gravelly voice. "I've seen my fair share of blood stains, and that ain't one."

When Taylor turned and gave him a horrified look, he rolled his eyes. "Oh, for heaven's sake, girl, I've been managing these apartments for damn near twenty years; I've seen all sorts of crazy shit!"

Taylor raised her eyebrows at this, then turned back to the stain. "Anyway, whatever it is—blood or wine or Kool-Aid or whatever—it's not coming out. I've scrubbed and scrubbed. There's another stain like it in the corner of the bedroom, but it's brown."

Tommy nodded. "Okay. The steam cleaning folks will be in later this week anyway; if that don't do it, I'll get the handyman to replace those sections of carpet."

Taylor peeled off the latex gloves and tossed them into the trash, then brushed her hands over her stained t-shirt and shorts. As a few locks of her blond hair had worked their way loose, she quickly undid her hair before putting it back up into a messy bun as Tommy inspected her handiwork throughout the rest of the apartment.

A few minutes later, they stepped outside. Still leaning on his cane, Tommy pushed aside his left suspender, reached into his breast pocket, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. After placing one in his mouth and the pack back in his pocket, he took out his lighter, but couldn't manage more than a spark. Taylor reached into her back pocket and took out her own lighter, and he leaned forward as she lit the cigarette for him.

After taking a drag, Tommy took the cigarette into his fingers and exhaled a thin cloud of smoke. "Thanks. Regarding the apartment...you did great, under the circumstances."

Taylor made a face. "I couldn't believe that place! I knew just from living next door that guy wasn't great, but who the hell just abandons a place like that and leaves their junk, their _trash_ , everywhere?!"

"Someone who has an outstanding felony arrest warrant and is also two months behind on their rent, that's who. Anyway, it's cleaned out now. Leaving the windows open for a while should get the smell out, hopefully. Add in the carpet cleaners and a little bit of maintenance work, and I think it'll be ready in time for the next renter. So thank you. I assume you'll want your pay credited toward your next rent balance?"

"As always. Any other apartments need cleaning?"

He shook his head. "Nothing at the moment. I think a couple more may be coming up over the next month or two; I'll let you know when I have more details. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to the office. Say hi to Ms. Caulfield for me, will you?"

"Will do. Thanks again, Tommy."

* * *

Taylor did not have to go far to get back to her own apartment, since it was right next door to the apartment she had just cleaned; to the right of it, to be exact, if one were facing the building from the parking lot. They even shared a wall, a fact that had brought her no comfort whatsoever.

Unlocking the door to her apartment, Taylor entered and looked around. It had the same dimensions and layout—they were both single bedroom units—but with all the rooms on the reverse side; like a reflection, if the shared wall were the mirror. She sat down on the couch and sighed in relief; after the long day of cleaning up the other apartment, it felt great to take a load off.

At that moment, a pair of arms reached from behind the couch and wrapped her in a hug. She gasped and then smiled. "Well, hello there."

Max leaned down and kissed Taylor on top of the head, then released her grip and came around to sit on the couch next to her. The blonde saw that the brunette was still wearing the black slacks and polo shirt that served as the uniform at her place of employment.

Leaning her head on Max's shoulder, Taylor asked, "When did you get back?"

"Not long. Maybe twenty minutes ago. How was your day?"

Taylor sighed. "You know that apartment next door? The one that I've been cleaning the last couple days?"

"The real messy one? Yeah."

"Well, I finished cleaning out all the shit he'd left behind—pieces of furniture, dishes, old pizza boxes, bags of garbage, leftovers from the fridge...it was gross. And after that was done, I got to vacuum the carpets, scrub the counters and sinks, sweep and mop the kitchen floor, and clean the bathroom. To answer your question...my day was pretty fucking busy."

"So...is there any more to do?"

Taylor slowly shook her head. "Not for me, and thank god. And no other apartments currently on the schedule for cleaning, either."

"Why was there such a rush to clean this one? Don't you normally have more time?"

"Tommy told me that the single bedroom units—similar to ours—have been full lately, and there's a waiting list. Turned out the next available person on the list was hoping to move in next week. At least my part's done now. Tommy said they're going to do a little more work on it, but it should be ready in time."

"Hopefully the next resident will be better than the asshole that was there before," Max remarked.

"Agreed. Oh! That reminds me..." Taylor grinned. "I, uh, 'appropriated' some of our ill-reputed neighbor's stuff when I was cleaning out the place."

"And by 'appropriated', I presume you mean that you stole it?"

"Eh, I don't think you can really call it stealing when he abandoned it...it was probably all just going to be thrown out eventually. I prefer to think of it as collecting a tip for the extra work I had to do. I doubt he's going to come looking for it."

"Okay...what exactly did you 'appropriate'?"

"Several cans of chili," Taylor replied. "All unexpired and unopened, of course. An unopened bottle of wine...certainly not the high quality shit, probably cost like five bucks at the supermarket, but free booze is free booze. Also, some light bulbs. A package of double-A batteries."

"Not bad...anything else?"

There was initially no response. Max glanced over at Taylor and saw that the blonde's grin had taken on a more wicked form. "Taylor?...Oh god. What else did you take?"

"Not much." Getting up from the couch, Taylor walked over to the kitchen, opened one of the drawers, took out something. "Just a little something we can enjoy on our next night in." She tossed the item to Max, who caught and examined it. "I think I may remember watching it on late night TV one time."

It was a DVD case, the title cover of which had been removed. Max started to it. "What is it?"

"Let's just say our friend had a very sizable porn collection..."

Max immediately dropped the case on the floor and jumped up from the couch. "Oh, gross, Taylor! You actually touched it...you let _me_ touch it?!"

"You got something against porn, Max?"

"What? No, I don't! But I don't want to think about what he was doing when he last handled—!"

She was interrupted when Taylor started laughing. "Relax, I'm just messing with you, Max!"

"...Wait, you mean it's not..."

"Seriously, how many people do you know buy porn on DVD when the Internet exists?"

Max picked the case back up and opened it. The disc was for _Evil Dead II_. "Oh."

"Thought it might be good for Halloween viewing."

An awkward, tense moment of silence followed. A pin drop could have been heard as blue eyes stared into blue eyes.

Then, slowly, a grin formed on Max's face. "I swear, Taylor, every time I think I finally know you...you always find a way to surprise me!"

"Admit it...that's part of why you love me!" Taylor giggled.

"Yeah, it is...but that doesn't mean I don't find it scary sometimes!"

Max walked over to Taylor. She wrapped her arms around the blonde, who returned the gesture, and they kissed.

"It's good to be home," said Max. Taylor smiled, and another kiss followed. Then Max started kissing Taylor's neck, and one of her hands crept down to Taylor's ass and gave it a squeeze, while the other started to creep up the back of Taylor's shirt.

"Max," Taylor giggled. "C'mon, I've been cleaning that apartment all day. I'm really gross and stinky right now."

Max planted another kiss along Taylor's collarbone. "So? I've been working fryers in a hot greasy kitchen all day. At least we can be gross and stinky together."

"Max..." said Taylor, still giggling. "I have work tonight. I have to shower and be ready to leave in an hour and a half."

Max stepped back, clearly disappointed but still smiling. "Okay, fine. Rain check?"

"Absolutely," replied Taylor, sporting her impish grin. "I promise we'll have the grossest, stinkiest sex ever if that's what you want!"

"Eww! Taylor!"

"Hey, it was your idea!"

* * *

" _You'll hurt her, you know," Steph Gingrich says. "Just like you hurt me."_

_She and Taylor are standing behind the Blackwell dormitory again, just like all the previous times. Steph is wearing sneakers, jeans, a red Arcadia Bay t-shirt, and a white beanie with a small yellow and orange flame sewn on it—the same outfit she was wearing the day the two girls first spoke to one another, Taylor realizes._

" _Hurt who?" Taylor asks innocently, as if she doesn't already know the answer._

_Steph scoffs. "You can't even bring yourself to say her name. Guess I shouldn't be surprised; you were too much of a coward to tell people about you and me, after all."_

" _Blackwell was years ago, Steph. Things have changed."_

" _Have they, Taylor? Have you?" Steph steps forward, grabs Taylor forcefully around the back of the head, and forces a kiss on her. Taylor shoves the auburn-haired girl away from her, horrified, then becomes more horrified when she sees her face again._

_A rot has set in around Steph's mouth, and it is rapidly spreading._

" _Oh my god," says Taylor. "Steph?"_

_Steph tenderly uses her fingers—which are already shrinking to their skeletal form—to prod at the rot, which has already reached her nose. "Huh," she says. "Turns out you still destroy everything you touch."_

_Taylor begins screaming._

"Taylor!"

_The blonde doesn't know where the voice comes from, nor does she care as she screams._

_Steph's lips shrivel away, forming a ghoulish grin as teeth and gums are exposed. Her eyes turn milky white before shrinking back into their sockets._

"Taylor! Wake up!"

_And Taylor continues screaming._

* * *

The next thing Taylor knew, she was still screaming, only now she was in the dark and being shaken violently by the shoulders.

"Wake up, Tay, you're having a nightmare!"

Taylor's screams finally died, and she was now hyperventilating. "Max...?"

The shaking stopped. "Yeah, I'm here. Let me get a light on."

Taylor flinched as the bedside lamp came on. Max reached down a grabbed a couple extra pillows off of the floor.

"C'mon, let's sit up," said Max. She reached under Taylor, who was still hyperventilating, and noticed that her nightshirt was soaked with sweat. She brought the blond woman to a sitting position, placing the extra pillows behind her. Then they leaned against the headboard, the blonde resting her head on the brunette's chest as the latter held her.

After remaining like that for what seemed forever, Taylor's hyperventilating finally subsided. "Thank you," she said.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Max asked.

"About what?"

"The nightmare."

"No. I'd rather forget it."

"Okay. Anything I can do to help?"

"Can we just sit like this for a while?"

"Sure."

Taylor had been having nightmares and anxiety attacks every so often (the latter far more so than the former) for a long time, even since before Blackwell, but they varied widely in severity, and they had rarely, if ever, been as bad as the one she had just had tonight. She hoped that it was a onetime event, feared that it might not be.

The nightmares also varied as to who appeared in them and where they took place. Recurring examples included but were not limited to: Victoria in her Blackwell dorm room, angry at Taylor for abandoning her as a friend. Nathan, staring at her accusingly from his jail cell. Her mother, laying in the same bed where she had spent most of her last few years. Her father, who still looked the exact same as he did in the photos that Taylor had kept long after he left. The priest from the Arcadia Bay's sole Catholic church, which Taylor had attended with her parents, and later just her mom, growing up. Chloe, laying in a pool of blood on the floor of the girls' restroom. Logan, Zach, and Hayden, the three boys she had kissed during her time at Blackwell. Dana, holding the baby she would never have. Stella, bleeding profusely from deep, self-inflicted gashes that ran up the inside of either forearm. Kate Marsh had appeared a few times as well, once with a head that was twisted at an unnatural angle—Taylor sometimes wished Max had never told her of that timeline—even though Taylor knew that in reality, Kate was alive and well. Many others had appeared as well, including several (out of a countless many) of the men and women she had had one night stands with in the past.

And then there was Steph Gingrich. Auburn hair, tan complexion, gray eyes. The girl she had fallen in love with back at Blackwell, the only person she had ever truly fallen for until Max. And Taylor had ruined it. Steph had wanted to start telling people about their relationship; not a big public coming out, just starting with friends and family. Taylor had not wanted to do so for fear of how Victoria and rest of the Vortex Club would treat her if they ever found out, and it had come to a head when Steph had given her an ultimatum. Taylor had chosen to end things, only to find out years later that Victoria had known anyway.

And hence why Steph appeared in her dreams and nightmares perhaps more than anyone else, sometimes hurt and sad, other times angry and accusing. To the best of her recollection, none of them had been as horrific as what Taylor had experienced tonight.

"Hey, Max?"

"What's up?"

"You know you don't have to do this, right?"

"Do what?"

"This. Taking care of me. I'm grateful, but I know you need the sleep more than you need to be doing this. I'm sorry."

"Shh, don't talk like that. Nothing to be sorry for."

Taylor smiled softly.

"I tried to wait up for you, but I got too tired," Max said a moment later. "Did things go okay at the bar?"

"Yeah. The usual rowdy bikers were there. Pablo was around to help me out though. What about you? Did you do anything fun here at home?"

Max thought for a moment. "Well, I read. Remember that _Nevernight_ book I started reading back in Port Angeles? I'm reading its sequel now. _Godsgrave._ I checked it out from the library."

"I guess I need to read that series."

"You really should."

A moment's silence followed.

"I love you," Taylor said.

"I love you, too," Max replied.

Another moment of silence. "I mean it. I really do love you."

"I know." Max leaned down and gently kissed the top of Taylor's head. "But I love it when you remind me."

* * *

_The next day_

Unlocking the door to his office, Tommy hobbled over to his desk and sat in the rolling chair behind it. Propping his cane up against the desk, he looked over to the phone on his right and saw that no new messages had been left overnight. Then he looked through his key ring, and a moment later had unlocked the main drawer of the desk. Taking his laptop out, he opened it and turned it on. After it had booted up, he opened his daily planner from the desktop; seeing nothing that required immediate attention, he minimized it and then opened the app he used for managing the apartments. A few years back, he had finally convinced the property owner to convert from traditional pen and paper to cloud-based services. Tommy was still surprised that he had successfully pulled this off, as the owner was practically a Luddite who hadn't even had an email address until a little over a decade ago.

Once inside the app, Tommy opened the "New Applicants" list revealing a long list of names. He selected the one at the very top and opened their application. Reading the phone number listed on it, he picked up the receiver and started dialing.

"Hello?" said a woman's voice after two rings.

"Hello, is this..." Tommy read the name off of the application. "...Stephanie?"

"Yes, it is."

"This is Tommy, the manager over at Rosewood Apartments. Just wanted to let you know that your background check cleared, and that your apartment is on track to be ready by next week."

"Awesome! I was told the place needed a lot of cleaning. Is that done yet?"

"Almost. In fact, the woman who did most of the work lives in the apartment right next door to yours."

"Cool...so when can I move in?"

"First, you'll need to come by to sign the lease and pay your security deposit and first month's rent. You can get the keys from me as early as Tuesday if your payments have cleared by then."

"Okay. Can I come by today for the paperwork?"

"Sure." Tommy looked through his calendar. "Would 2 o'clock work?"

"2 o'clock would be perfect. I'll see you then."

"I look forward to it. Welcome to Rosewood Apartments, Ms. Gingrich."


	2. The New Neighbor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max helps an attractive stranger move into the apartment next door...and discovers they have a lot more in common than she would ever have suspected.

Max sat alone in the apartment, reading more of _Godsgrave—_ she thought it a great read so far and was already getting toward the end—but eventually she grew restless. It was her day off, but the same could not be said for Taylor, who wouldn't be home for at least another hour. The brunette decided to take a walk. It was cloudy but not rainy or too cold, so she put on a light sweat jacket and stepped outside.

The first thing she noticed was the U-Haul parked right in front of the next door apartment, the same which Taylor had cleaned out last week. It was parked with the front facing out to allow easier access from the apartment to the truck's rear door, which was unlatched and open.

 _Oh, the new tenant is here._ Max did not see anyone when she looked around, but she did see that the door to the apartment was standing open. _They're probably inside._ Stepping in front of the door, she peered through. She could see that there was already a couch and coffee table in the living room and a small dining table in the kitchen area.

"Hey!" said a voice from behind her; a woman's voice from what she could tell. Spinning around, Max looked into the U-Haul and saw that the woman was inside near the back, though she couldn't see her clearly in the light. Max opened her mouth to apologize and explain that she wasn't trying to spy, but was stopped when the stranger spoke first.

"Could you give me a hand?" The other woman pushed out a two-wheel dolly with two boxes on it, stacked one on top of one another. It did not look very stable.

Max pursed her lips. "Sure." Helping steady the boxes as the woman pushed the dolly, Max guided them down the ramp and into the apartment. Then they carried the boxes—each of which was heavy enough to require their combined strength—to the bedroom, which Max saw already had a bed and a bookshelf in it.

"Thank you," the woman said a few minutes later.

"No problem," Max said. She saw now that the other woman was around her age and very attractive with a slim figure, tan skin, auburn hair which came down to her neck (though it was mostly covered by a large, dark green beanie), and full lips which formed a warm smile. She wore a black sweat jacket over a blue t-shirt containing a faded Superman (Supergirl?) logo.

The auburn-haired woman extended her hand. "I'm Steph, by the way."

The brunette accepted the hand and shook. "Max."

"Pleasure to meet you, Max."

Max looked around. "Looks like you've already gotten the bigger furniture in here."

"Yeah, I had some friends and family help me get those in yesterday afternoon."

Max nodded; she and Taylor would have both been at work at that time. "Need any more help?"

The woman's smile broadened. "I won't say no if you've got the time. Just be careful to lift with your legs and not with your back."

Max did not normally relish the opportunity to help someone move, but there was something compelling about the stranger. Fortunately, it turned out that the first two boxes had been the heaviest ones, and with both women unloading, it did not take long to get the rest of them out of the U-Haul. A while later, they stood in the living room surrounded by boxes of varying volumes and dimensions.

Steph pulled out a small pocketknife and used it to cut the tape on one of the larger boxes, opening it to reveal sheets, blankets and pillows. Then she held out the pocket knife to Max.

"If I start unloading and putting stuff away, could you cut the tape on the rest of the boxes and get them open? Won't take long, but it'll be a great help. Then I'll be good from there."

"Sure," said Max, taking the pocketknife. She proceeded to do as Steph had requested. Most of the boxes were full of typical household items—dishes, silverware, small appliances, cleaning products, and so on.

"So where do you live?" asked Steph from the bedroom where she now made up her bed.

"Next door," Max replied.

"The one to the right of mine?"

"Yeah, if you're facing it from outside."

"Wait...the apartment manager guy, what's his name..."

"Tommy?"

"Yeah, him. He told me the woman next door cleaned up this apartment last week. That was you?"

"No, that would be my girlfriend Taylor. She often cleans the units around here after the occupants move out...gets us discounts on our rent."

"Oh! Your, uh, girlfriend...Is she home?"

"No, she's at work. At her regular job, I mean."

"What does she do?"

"Bartender. It's not her favorite thing in the world, but she gets good tips."

Steph now walked into the room. "And what about you?"

Max smiled. "Restaurant worker. Yeah, I know. I just moved in with Taylor a couple months ago, and I figured I could at least do my part to help with the rent while I look for something better."

"Hey, no shame in any job as long as it's honest," said Steph.

"What about you?" asked Max. "What do you do?"

"Take your pick."

"Huh?"

"I guess I'd consider myself primarily a web developer. Supplemented with a couple other gigs."

"Oh yeah? Do you work for a tech company around here?"

"No, I used to be in Palo Alto—near San Francisco—but now I do freelance. Local companies, startups and the like, even a church—I help them build and maintain sites to promote themselves."

"That actually sounds pretty awesome," said Max, thinking about her current job. "You said you had other jobs too?"

"Yep! I also work at the library as an assistant. Circulation desk—checking books in and out, shelving them, and registering people for library cards, mostly."

Max's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to recall. "Hmm, I've been there a few times, but I don't think I've seen you there before." She was certain she would have remembered someone who looked like the woman standing before her.

"It's only twenty hours a week, and I just started a couple weeks ago. Had to get another job, if I was going to be living in my own place."

"Oh. That makes sense. I always thought it'd be nice to work in a library," said Max.

"It's a little tedious at times," Steph said. "And I wish it paid more—you probably make more per hour at your restaurant job to be honest—but I really enjoy it overall."

"You said you had another part time job as well?"

Steph nodded. "I do occasional gigs as a stage manager at the local theater."

"Like for plays?"

"Yeah. I work more on the tech side...lighting and stuff."

"That's really cool. Taylor and I keep meaning to get more into the local scene."

"Oh, you should totally come!" said the woman. "We're doing _Fiddler on the Roof_ next month!"

As Max opened her mouth to reply, a chirp sounded from her pocket. Pulling out her phone, she saw that it was from Taylor.

 **Taylor:** Omw home

 **Taylor:** Want me to grab pizza for dinner? Domino's has $6 large special this week

 **Max:** Sure

 **Max:** Met the new neighbor btw. Seems really cool. Helping her move in.

She thought for a minute, then sent another text.

 **Max:** How about I invite her to join us? I think youll like her.

 **Taylor:** Sure :)

"Hey, Steph?"

"What's up?" replied the auburn-haired woman, who had just unloaded the dishes from their box and set them on the dinner table.

"Want to join me and Taylor for dinner? She's picking up pizza."

Steph's thick eyebrows rose in a mixture of surprise and thought. "I wouldn't want to impose..."

"You won't!" Max assured. "It'd be a chance for all of us to get to know each other."

The auburn-haired woman smiled. "Then I accept your invite. She's welcome to bring the pizza here, if you guys don't mind the mess."

A few boxes later, Max came across one whose contents caught her attention; it was Steph's book collection. "You're into Dungeons & Dragons?"

"Yeah!" Steph's voice came from the kitchen; she had started loading dishes and silverware into the cabinets. "That and other tabletop RPGs. You ever play?"

Max picked up the monster manual laying at the top of the box and thumbed through it briefly. "I used to play with a friend of mine, but that's been over a decade now, and I've forgotten a lot of how it went."

"Hey, it's a start. I played with my old San Francisco friends over video for a while, but I was actually hoping to get a group started here in town. Maybe you and your girlfriend could be my first recruits?"

"I don't know whether Taylor would be into that or not, but I'd certainly be interested. Just let me know when and where."

"Will do!" Steph shut one cabinet door, opened another. "So how long have you two been together?"

"Well..." Max had to think for a moment, as the answer was surprisingly complicated. "We became serious several months ago and I finally moved in with her...last month, I think?"

"Cool. How'd you meet?"

"We actually kind of knew each other during our senior years of high school, but we weren't friends back then. Then we ran into each other by chance one night—in this town, actually—and, well, we started dating not long afterward."

"You just happened to run into each other?" said Steph. "Damn, sounds like the universe may have been helping you out."

 _If so, it's only because it really owes me,_ Max thought.

She resumed opening boxes, and a short while later came across Steph's DVD collection. She paused in her labors to look through it a little. It was an eclectic mix which included really famous movies and TV series such as the _Lord of the Rings_ trilogy, all seven seasons of _Star Trek: Next Generation_ , and the first two _Terminator_ films, but also less mainstream fare such as _Primer_ , _Dawn of the Dead_ (the 1978 Romero original, not the 2004 Snyder remake), and _Mulholland Drive_. What drew her attention the most, however, was the collection's inclusion of _Blade Runner_. This brought back memories of nights spent with Chloe in the Price household, happier memories that now triggered a twinge of sadness.

"Are you a movie person?"

Max jerked and nearly dropped the Blade Runner DVD when she realized Steph was standing next to her. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop, I was just—"

"It's okay. See anything you like?"

Max held up the DVD box. "Um, yeah. A friend and I—we used to watch this movie when we were kids. It just brought back memories, that's all."

"Which version did you see?" asked Steph.

Max gave her a blank look.

"Did it have Harrison Ford narrating?"

"Yeah."

"Then you should definitely watch that version you're holding," Steph replied. "It's the Final Cut. Removed the cheesy voice-over narration and 'happy ending' that the theatrical version had and added a cool unicorn dream sequence. Similar to the 'Director's Cut'"—Steph made quote marks with the index and middle fingers of both hands—"but more polished."

"I'll have to check it out," Max said.

Another chirp sounded from her phone, and she once more pulled it out of her pocket. "That's my girlfriend texting me again."

 **Taylor:** Just pulled into complex. Are you still in her apartment

 **Max:** Yes just come on in

 **Taylor:** Meet you there

"She's arriving now," said Max to Steph. "I told her to just come here."

"Sounds good!" Steph was now putting small appliances on the kitchen counters, including a coffee maker, toaster, and microwave.

Max held up the copy of _Blade Runner._ "Do you mind if I borrow this from you? I've been kinda wanting to see it again."

"I have a better idea," said Steph. "Why don't you and her come by this weekend to watch it here? My parents bought me a sweet new television as an apartment warming gift. They're driving up Friday to drop it off. It's going to be in 4K resolution and everything."

"That...would be totally awesome," Max replied. Then she thought a moment about what Steph had said. "That's a long drive for your parents, isn't it?"

"Um, a few hours, I guess?"

"From San Francisco?"

"Huh? Oh! No, I'm not from there originally. My parents still live in Arcadia Bay—same place I grew up until I left for college."

Max froze. Steph was from Arcadia Bay? Steph...Arcadia Bay...her mind began putting pieces together as she remembered what Taylor had told her about her time at Blackwell before Max had started attending. This woman was named Steph, and she was from Arcadia Bay? What were the odds? "Arcadia Bay...as in Oregon?"

Steph came out of the kitchen and gave Max a puzzled look. "Yeah, that's right. Have you been there?"

"Uh, yeah...I lived there until I was thirteen, then came back as a high school senior to attend Blackwell."

The auburn-haired woman's mouth dropped open; Max guessed that she was putting the pieces together as well. "You...and your girlfriend...went to Blackwell Academy?"

"Yeah," Max replied. "Did you...go there, too?"

This time it was Steph's turn to nod. "I did...my last few years of high school, actually. You said your girlfriend's name was Taylor...that wouldn't happen to be Taylor Christensen, would it?"

Max swallowed uneasily. "Would...would your last name happen to be Gingrich?"

Steph's look said it all.

 _Oh god, I need to catch Taylor before she comes in here,_ Max thought. _At least give her a little advance warning first._ She turned around to head toward the door.

Only to see Taylor walking in, pizza box in her arms.

"Hey, Max, just realized I forgot to ask what you wanted, I hope sausage was okay. Oh, hi, you must be the new—" She froze as soon as she saw Steph, and a look comprised of recognition and surprise crossed her face which slowly gave way to horror.

"Um, hey, Taylor," said Steph, waving awkwardly as she attempted a smile. "Been a while."

The pizza box fell out of Taylor's arms.

Followed by Taylor herself as she collapsed to the floor.


	3. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkwardness ensues when two exes unexpectedly encounter each other for the first time in years.

As Taylor fell, her body somehow avoided hitting any of the various open boxes which lay around the living room. The same could not be said for the poor pizza box, which was crushed under the blonde's midsection as she landed facedown.

"Taylor?" Max ran to her girlfriend and shook her by one shoulder. "Taylor!"

"Get her on her back!" said Steph as she rushed over. She and Max rolled Taylor off of the pizza box and onto her back. "Okay, now loosen her belt and collar; it'll help her breathe!" Max undid Taylor's belt. Looking up, she saw that the first button of Taylor's plaid shirt was unbuttoned, but in the process of her falling and then being rolled over, her shirt had been shifted up around her throat. To be on the safe side, Max went ahead and undid the next button. Reaching the box which contained her books, Steph grabbed a stack of them and placed them on the floor next to Taylor's legs. Then she lifted the blonde's feet onto the stack, elevating her legs several inches.

"Hopefully that will help get blood to her brain," Steph said. "Is she breathing?"

Max held her hand near Taylor's mouth and nose. "Yeah, she's breathing."

"Good. Let's give her a minute and see if she wakes up."

As the seconds ticked by, Max debated internally whether to use her power to prevent the situation with which they were now dealing; if so, it would have to be soon, as she wasn't able to rewind more than a few minutes. She could rewind back to before Taylor came into the apartment, then rush out to the parking lot to break the news more gently to her about Steph; it would at least be a lot less of a rude awakening for Taylor than what she had just experienced.

But using her power had its own risks, especially when using it to potentially save a person's life; she had learned this lesson the hard way with Chloe. As far as Max could recall, she had not used her power since she and Taylor had first been reacquainted—over a year ago. She had used it to reveal her powers to Taylor, and then later that same night to help both of them escape from a police officer during a skinny dipping dare gone wrong. She had chided herself later for being so reckless with her powers, but she couldn't deny that they had helped bring her and Taylor closer together, and—to the best of her knowledge—no massive tornadoes had yet materialized. Still, she did not want to test any boundaries if she could help it.

Taylor still had not woken up. Max slowly raised her arm, looking at it as she prepared to rewind. Then she felt a hand grab her other arm.

"No, Max," said a rather weak voice. "Not today." Max looked down and saw that Taylor's eyes were now open and looking up at her.

"You're okay!" said Max, grasping Taylor's hand in hers.

"Oh, thank god," said Steph. She got up, ran to the kitchen, and came back a moment later with a glass of water. "Let's get you to sit up...slowly!...Good. Now sip on this."

"I'm fine now," Taylor said a moment later. "Thank you."

"You scared me!" Max admitted.

"Yeah, having you die wouldn't have been the best way to start my first day in my new apartment," Steph added.

Taylor smiled weakly. Putting one hand on her waist, she noticed that her belt was loose, and when she looked down, she saw that not only was her belt unbuckled, but the top two buttons of her shirt were undone. She looked back up at the two other women with an accusing stare. "What exactly were you two up to?"

This prompted a confusing exchange from Max and Steph as they both awkwardly attempted to explain.

"It's not what you think—"

"—help blood flow—"

"—didn't know what we were dealing—"

The exchange ceased when Taylor started laughing. "Relax, I'm just fucking with you. I've read up on first aid stuff before, you know."

"Well...I'm glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humor," Steph remarked.

Taylor looked up at the auburn-haired woman. "So you're the new tenant?"

Steph nodded slowly, uneasily. "Yeah."

"Huh. Small world."

Taylor smiled then looked around. She saw the pizza box and the condition it was in. "Uh oh. Did I do that?"

"It should still be good," Max said.

"Hey, wouldn't be the first time I've had squished pizza," Steph added.

Steph brought out some plates, napkins, and glasses of water, and a short while later, the three woman sat on the floor around the coffee table, munching away on the pizza—which, while squished, was indeed still good—and catching up, in brief summary, on what all had transpired in their lives since Blackwell. The conversation was mostly between Steph and Taylor.

"Do you still keep in contact with Mikey?" asked Taylor.

Steph nodded. "Yeah, we still text. His classes keep him busy though—he said this semester's one of the more stressful ones he's had, but he's keeping his head above water. We try to get together whenever I visit my parents and he happens to be in town."

"Glad to hear that. How about his dad?"

"Still works at the hardware store. Insists on staying there, but he doesn't really have to anymore, thanks to Drew's NFL career."

"I heard about that," said Taylor. "But I don't really follow football."

"What about you? Do you still keep up with any of the old gang?"

"I still text with Courtney sometimes," said Taylor. "You may have heard that she works for Victoria in Seattle."

"What about Victoria? Do you still talk to her?" Steph asked.

Taylor and Max gave each other an uneasy look. "...I'd rather not talk about that," the blonde replied.

"Uh...sure. Any updates on anyone else?"

The blonde shrugged. "Nothing recent."

The auburn-haired woman talked some about her post-Blackwell life afterward, but did not give many more details beyond what she had already told Max earlier that day. Eventually the conversation wound down.

Taylor looked out the window. "Wow, it's gotten late. Max and I should probably get home."

Steph nodded, and all three women stood. "It's been great catching up with you, Tay." She turned to Max. "And it's been good getting to know you. We should all hang out again sometime. Ooh! We should exchange numbers!" She turned back to Taylor. "I think I actually still have your number from Blackwell on my phone. Do you still use it?"

"Yeah," replied the blonde. "Is yours the same as well?"

"Yep."

"And I can get it from Taylor," Max finished. Taylor nodded in affirmation, and they each shook hands with Steph. Then they walked out the door and back to their apartment next door.

* * *

"Taylor," Max said after she had closed the door. "I'm sorry."

The blonde turned to her. "For what?"

"I was going to warn you. I had just figured it out right before you entered. Just...bad timing, that's all."

"Not your fault. But what about Steph? Do you really think she didn't know I was living here? That she just happened to move in next door to her ex?"

Max shrugged. "We realized it when she mentioned being from Arcadia Bay. She seemed just as surprised as I was."

Taylor nodded slowly. "Okay...In a weird way it makes sense."

The brunette blinked in confusion. "Um...how do you figure that?"

The blonde said nothing before a moment. Then: "I dreamed of her, you know."

"Huh?"

"Remember when I woke up screaming last week? It was about her. Do you think it means something?"

"...Means something?"

"You know, like maybe the universe was trying to warn me."

Max recalled her own previous experiences with visions of the future. "I guess it's possible. But it's not the first time you've dreamed about her, is it?"

"No. It'd been a while, but it certainly wasn't the first time," Taylor admitted.

"So it could have been a coincidence then, right?"

"My life seems to have changed a lot in the past year due to coincidences. Think about it: You and I encountered each other by 'coincidence' when you happened to come into the bar after getting a flat tire. We started dating not long afterward. Then I ran into Victoria by 'coincidence' in Port Angeles last fall...that didn't end well, but it did lead to you and I becoming more serious afterward. And now, by 'coincidence', my ex-girlfriend has moved in next door to us. A week after I happened to have a really fucked up nightmare about her."

"Huh, never thought about it that way," Max said. "You know...the first two coincidences you mentioned resulted in things getting better, for you and me at least. So let's say—hypothetically—that it wasn't coincidence but the universe, as you said. Isn't it possible that maybe, as with the previous times, things will improve for our lives as a result of Steph being here? Maybe the nightmare was simply that—a nightmare. An actual coincidence."

"Fair point," Taylor replied. "I don't know though. It's just that...it's just that, sometimes I think that the universe might be trying to help me...that's what my heart says. But my brain..." She trailed off.

"What about your brain?"

Blue eyes met blue eyes as Taylor once again looked up at Max. "My brain—my anxiety at least—says that the universe is just playing a long, cruel joke, and eventually I'm going to find out that I'm the punchline."

* * *

  
The conversation continued for a brief while afterward, but nothing new was said. Eventually they both decided to shower and turn in. For Taylor, however, sleep was elusive. As Max snored softly next to her, Taylor kept tossing and turning, trying one pillow instead of her usual two, then three. She tried a meditation exercise, attempting in vain to clear her mind of what all had transpired that day. Then she tried getting out of bed for a while and reading in the living room—she took a brief look at Max's copy of Nevernight; it looked interesting enough, she supposed, but now was not the time to dive into a novel. Ultimately, she still could not sleep, even though she was very tired.

It was right then that she heard her phone ding.

_A text? At this hour?_ She picked up the phone and looked at the screen.

**Steph:** Hey. Hopefully you're already sleeping, but just wanted you to know that it was good seeing you again. Glad you're doing well. Have a good night.

Taylor sat in silence for a moment as she pondered the text. Then she came to a decision.

"Fuck it," she said quietly. Some things could just not wait.

She grabbed a pair of shorts and slipped them on. Then she stepped into her flip-flops and walked out out of the apartment, shutting the door quietly behind her. Walking over to the apartment next door, she hugged herself tightly; it was a surprisingly chilly night. Standing in front of Steph's door, she raised her hand in a fist and hesitated. Then she rapped loudly on the door, several times in succession, then a few more in case Steph had gone to bed in the last few minutes and needed help in waking up.

A minute later, she heard Steph's voice through the door. "Who's there?!"

"It's Taylor!"

The door opened a few inches, and part of Steph's face appeared through it. She had circles under her eyes, and her auburn hair was rather unkempt. "Jesus, Taylor, do you have any idea what time it is?"

"We need to talk. Just you and me."

Steph frowned. "Look, Tay, if it's about the text; I'm sorry. I didn't think it would wake you up."

"The text did let me know that you're awake, but this isn't about that. We need to talk about us."

Slowly, after a moment's silence, Steph nodded and opened the door further. She was dressed in blue pajama bottoms and a white tank top. Taylor was shocked to see that in her right hand, the auburn-haired woman was gripping the wood stock of a double barrel shotgun, the butt of which rested against her right shoulder. The action was open so that the barrels dangled downward at an angle to the stock, and Taylor could see the glinting brass of the two shells that rested in the chambers.

"Well?" Steph asked. "Are you coming in or not?"


	4. A Long Overdue Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor and Steph meet to discuss what happened back at Blackwell.

"I can put some on coffee if you want," Steph said as Taylor entered the apartment. "You still take double cream, no sugar?"

"I do," Taylor said. "But I'll pass this time; I'm already having a hard time getting sleep tonight as it is."

"That makes two of us," Steph muttered as she walked into the bedroom. When she returned, she was no longer holding the shotgun.

She sat down on the couch. "So, you wanted to talk. Badly enough that it couldn't wait until morning. Is this about what happened back at Blackwell?"

"...Yeah." Even as Taylor said it, she felt her anxiety starting to well up inside.

Steph nodded. "After what happened earlier today, I knew we were going to have this discussion. Sooner or later."

"So...you haven't forgotten?"

"How could I? After how things ended between us." She looked up at Taylor, and blue eyes met gray. "Taylor...I'm sorry."

Taylor blinked in surprise. "...What?"

"For what I did. The ultimatum...making you choose between telling others about our relationship, or ending it altogether."

Taylor was speechless. Steph was apologizing to _her_?

"I could have been more patient," continued Steph, "or just decided it wasn't working out and ended it right then and there. Instead I forced the decision onto you, trying to make us come out as a couple when you clearly weren't comfortable with it.

"When I first realized today that you lived right next door to me, I was hoping that you had forgotten. It was made clear to me you hadn't when you fainted at the sight of me. I'm so sorry for how much I hurt you, Taylor."

"Steph..." Taylor struggled to find words. "I...you don't understand. I came here to apologize to _you_."

"Huh?" It was now Steph's turn to be surprised.

"That's why I fainted...I know my anxiety often makes things seem worse than they are, but I was scared that you were still angry with me."

"Why would I still be angry with you?"

Taylor paced in front of the couch, avoiding eye contact with her ex-girlfriend. "I don't know what you remember, but it wasn't like you hadn't given me many chances with whole coming out thing. Maybe you shouldn't have given me the ultimatum, but it wasn't like you were wanting to do a big public announcement...just starting with some close friends and family. And worst of all, I didn't have the decency to tell you my decision after the ultimatum...I just stopped talking to you." She looked down at the floor. "I've regretted how things ended ever since, you know. I wish I could say I became a better person because of it, but that would be a lie...you probably saw what I starting to turn into before you graduated."

Steph nodded. "Victoria tends to have that effect on others."

"Yeah. I realized that way too late."

The auburn-haired woman sighed. "I guess we've both done a lot of things we regret." She looked up again at Taylor. "What if we started over?"

"Started over?"

"Yeah, as friends. Wipe the slate clean."

Taylor considered the proposal for a moment. "I'd like that."

Steph stood up from the couch and approached the blonde. Then she extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Steph."

Taylor smiled, took the hand, shook. "Hi Steph, nice to meet you; I'm Taylor."

Steph sat back down on the couch, and this time, Taylor joined her.

"Can I ask you something, Steph?"

"You just did."

"Hilarious. What's with the shotgun you were holding at the door? What were you afraid I was going to do?"

"I didn't know it was you when you knocked!" Steph protested. "A woman living by herself can't afford to be careless, you know. Especially when someone's banging on her door in the middle of the night..."

"...Sorry," Taylor said. "Makes sense I guess. You just never struck me as a person who was into guns."

Steph sighed. "I'm really not; it's the only one I own. I bought it back when I lived in the Bay Area."

"Arcadia Bay?"

"The San Francisco Bay Area," Steph clarified. "The city and all the surrounding counties. In California."

"Ah, right."

"I bought the shotgun because I had trouble with a stalker at one point, and I got scared. I've never had to use it, thank god."

"Holy shit. Did you ever consider getting a concealed carry permit?"

Steph snorted. "In the Bay Area? Good luck with that. Even for the shotgun, I had to go jump through some hoops—Firearm Safety Certificate, background check, and a ten day waiting period."

"For a shotgun?"

"Yeah. California laws suck."

"Oh. So what led to you moving away from the Bay Area?"

"I was tired of the corporate culture...I wanted to work on my own."

"And that's why you do freelance now."

"Yep, I get to work from home and be my own boss...no long commute, no annoying coworkers, no micromanaging superiors, no filling out a fuck ton of paperwork every time I need to make a change to my own code. Of course, it doesn't pay near as well, so I had to move away from San Francisco—I love the Bay Area, but it's too fucking expensive to live in. I moved back home to Arcadia Bay for a while; then a cousin of mine told me about the stage manager gig. I thought it would be cool to try something new that I enjoyed. I was staying with him before I got the library assistant job and moved into this place." Steph held out her hands, gesturing to the room. "And here I am."

"So how do you feel about things now?"

"Honestly? I may not live as luxurious a lifestyle as I had before, but I don't regret leaving my old job one bit."

"That's good," Taylor said. "I'm...happy that you're doing well now."

"Thanks." Steph looked up at the blonde. "Say...I've got a bottle of wine in the cabinet. Something to celebrate my move here. Want some?"

"...I probably shouldn't," the blonde said. "It's late, and I've got work tomorrow."

The auburn-haired woman nodded. "I understand. I need to get to bed myself."

* * *

_Seventeen minutes later_

"...So Max and I sneak out of the swimming pool area, and we're running naked through the apartment complex trying to hide from the cop," said Taylor, trying not to laugh. "We manage to get behind a car and put our clothes back on, and guess who shows up?"

They sat next to each other on the couch, each holding a half full glass of wine (the second glass for each of them). Steph was giggling so hard she kept nearly spilling her wine. "Who...who shows up?"

"Tommy!"

"Tommy...as in Tommy the apartment manager?!"

"Yes!" Taylor sipped her glass. "He's wearing a robe, probably stepped out for a smoke, and he sees us, and he says..." Taylor switched to a deep, gravelly imitation. "'Evening, Ms. Christensen. Might I ask what the hell you and your friend are doing?'"

Steph struggled to get words out between laughs. "So...so what...happened...then?"

"Turned out he knew the cop...he went and chewed him out, told him he was causing a disturbance for no reason."

"No way! Tommy did that?!"

"Yeah. It was actually kind of badass."

"So, did he know what you and Max had been doing?"

"Well...we didn't admit to it, and he didn't press us on it...but I don't think it helped that Max had put her bra on outside her shirt!"

A few minutes later, after the new wave of laughter had finally begun to subside, Taylor leaned her head against Steph's shoulder, one bare leg propped up on the couch, the other lazily hanging off. In response, Steph leaned her head against Taylor's.

"I don't think I realized just how much I missed this until now," said Steph.

Taylor sipped the remainder of her wine. "This?"

"You know...this. Talking, laughing. Shooting the shit."

The blonde smiled. "It's been really awesome getting to hang out again, Steph."

Her glass finally empty, Taylor set it down on the coffee table, then shifted her legs to the floor so that she now sat up next to Steph. Then she looked up at Steph, only to find she and Steph were looking each other directly in the eyes.

"So..." they both began at once. An awkward pause followed, and it was only then that Taylor realized that her and Steph's faces were only a few inches apart—at most. Taylor glanced briefly at Steph's lips, and she was uncomfortably certain the auburn-haired woman was doing the same to her.

After what seemed minutes—thought in reality was only seconds—they both quickly stood up from the couch and began simultaneously speaking.

"It's getting really late—"

"I should get home to Max—"

"—great hanging out again—"

"—awesome catching up—"

At the door, Taylor held out her hand to shake Steph's, and at the same time, Steph spread out her arms for an embrace. Each woman, seeing the other, immediately switched to the other position, so that Taylor was now waiting for a hug and Steph was holding out her hand. Laughing awkwardly, they finally settled on a handshake and shoulder pat.

* * *

A few minutes later, Taylor set foot inside her and Max's apartment. Kicking off her flip-flops, she headed to the bedroom. As she eased under the covers, she glanced at Max, who lay on her side facing away from her. The brunette was snoring softly, hair scattered out around her pillow. Good, Taylor thought. She had remained asleep while the blonde was next door.

Alas, sleep did not come soon for Taylor. She tossed and turned, but could not get the thoughts of what had just happened out of her head. _What happened at the end there? Did you nearly kiss her, or did she nearly kiss you? What would have happened if we hadn't gotten right up then and there and said goodnight? Is she having this exact same conversation in her head next door?_ Her questions soon transitioned to self-recriminations. _You're so stupid, Taylor. You should have declined the wine. You should have left after you and Steph exchanged apologies. Maybe you shouldn't have even gone over there in the first place._

After several minutes of these thoughts replaying over and over in her head, she finally sat up. She glanced over at Max. Then, with a sigh, she reached over and gently shook the brunette by the shoulder.

"Hey, Max?" the blonde whispered. "Wake up."


	5. Late Night Special

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taylor and Max enjoy some time together, and the latter starts to hang out with Steph.

Max awoke when she felt her shoulder being gently shaken. She rolled over on her back.

"Tay?" she whispered sleepily. "What's wrong? Was I snoring again, or did you have another anxiety attack?"

"Neither. I can't sleep," the blonde replied. She was propped up on one elbow looking down at the brunette.

"Um, apparently, neither can I. Is there something I can do?"

"You might say that," replied Taylor. She leaned down and kissed Max, her tongue grazing Max's lips ever so slightly. One hand ran up and down between Max's hip and ribcage. Then she sat up and pulled off her t-shirt; as was usual for her sleepwear, she was wearing nothing underneath.

If Max wasn't awake before, she was now. Her eyes shot open. "Wait...now? Really?"

The blonde nodded. "Would that be okay? It wouldn't take long."

Max thought for a moment, then shrugged and smiled. "Sure, I wouldn't mind a late night special. What'd you have in mind?"

With her trademark mischievous grin, Taylor told her. Max was interested, and a moment later, they had thrown back the covers. Taylor kissed Max again, more passionately this time. She played with Max's breasts, feeling the nipples stiffen through the t-shirt as she grazed them with her fingers, eliciting a shudder from the brunette.

After a couple minutes of this, Taylor stopped (provoking a groan of protest from Max), sat up, and tugged her girlfriend's shorts and panties down in one smooth motion.

"Could you turn over?" Taylor said. "Get on your knees and grab the headboard."

Max nodded and did as Taylor had asked, spreading her knees apart to allow better access. The blonde shifted herself forward until she was between the brunette's legs.

Then Taylor was spooning Max, the former's hips resting against the latter's ass. As Max continued to grip the headboard, Taylor reached around with her left hand and laid it on Max's stomach to hold her in place. Then the right reached around and down between Max's thighs, where it began slowly doing its magic. Max moaned in approval, low at first and then slowly getting louder, as the hand between her legs gradually increased the vigorosity of its motions, and she and Taylor's bodies rocked back and forth accordingly. The brunette could feel the blonde's breath on her neck. Finally, her moans reached a near scream as she climaxed.

A moment later, their now sweat-dampened bodies collapsed back on the bed. Neither bothered to put their clothes back on. Max turned toward Taylor. "That was amazing! If this is what I can expect each time, I wouldn't mind if you had trouble sleeping more often."

Taylor smiled. "Glad you enjoyed it."

"You want me to—"

The blonde shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm good."

Max frowned. "You sure?"

"Yeah. I thought this might help with the anxiety after everything that happened earlier tonight...I mean yesterday...you know."

"Well...did it work?"

"I think I'll be able to sleep now."

"Okay, if you say so."

As she and Taylor snuggled under the covers a short while later, Max said, "Oh, meant to ask you earlier about Steph."

Taylor froze. "...What about her?"

"She seems really nice. I'd like to get to know her better. She actually invited us to be her first recruits in a role-playing group she's trying to get started up."

"...Role-playing?"

"Yeah, as in tabletop games. Dungeons & Dragons, stuff like that."

"Oh, right. I remember Steph being really into that. She invited us into her group?"

"Well...it was before she learned who you were." Max glanced over at Taylor. "How would you feel about that?"

Taylor sighed. "I don't know, Max, D&D's never really been my thing."

"What about just hanging out with her? Inviting her over for dinner, watching a movie at her place, stuff like that."

Taylor considered Max's question for a moment. "I guess. And don't let me stop you from joining her role-playing group, either."

"You're okay with me and her hanging out?"

"Sure, why not? If we're going to be neighbors, we may as well try to get along. I know how lonely it gets here when I'm working late at the bar."

Max grinned. "Well...okay then."

* * *

**Steph:** What are you up to?

**Max:** Not much. Just reading. Taylors at work.

**Steph:** What are you reading?

**Max:** Darkdawn. It's the third book in this trilogy I've been reading. I just finished the second book last week

**Max:** What are you doing?

**Steph:** Gaming

**Steph:** Want to come over?

**Max:** Sure

* * *

"Press triangle, press triangle!" Steph said.

Max, who was not intimate with the layout of a PS4 controller, had to glance down to see which button had the triangle symbol on it. By the time she pressed it, it was too late, and poor Joel died yet again when the clicker bit a chunk out of his neck.

Max passed the controller to Steph. "It's official: I suck at video games."

"It just takes practice, that's all; getting used to the controls and everything. Also, this game in particular isn't all that forgiving." Using stealth, Steph took down both runners and the clicker with ease. Pausing the game, she turned to Max. "There's actually something else I've been wanting to show you. You okay with quitting this for tonight?"

Max shrugged. "I'm enjoying the story, but I have to admit, I wouldn't mind taking a break from it."

Steph exited the game and put the console in rest mode, then stood from her couch and walked over to the bookshelf, where she took out one of the books.

"Oh! While I'm thinking of it, there's something I've been wanting to ask you," Steph said as she returned and resumed her place on the couch. "It's about Taylor, actually. But I'm worried it might be too personal."

"Go ahead and ask," Max replied.

"Does she...still get anxiety attacks?"

"Yes, she does."

Steph nodded. "While she didn't say it, I got the impression that was the case when she came over the other night."

Max frowned. "Other...night?"

"Yeah, the night after you helped me move in," Steph continued. "She came over and we talked." It was now her turn to frown. "Did she not tell you about that?"

Max scanned through her memory of the past week. _The night after Steph moved in...after Taylor fainted at the sight of her?_ Max tried hard to remember but came up empty. _Wait, was that the same night Taylor and I..._

No. She didn't want to think about that right now. She made a mental note to ask Taylor about it later. "Oh, yeah. She did mention it, now that I think about it," she lied. "You were asking me about her anxiety attacks?"

"Yeah. Is it still pretty bad?" asked Steph.

Max shrugged. "It's a lot better than it was. She always apologizes to me every time it happens, as if it's her fault and she's done me some great wrong. I'm a lot more concerned for her than for my sleep though. I knew what I was signing up for when I moved in."

Steph nodded. "She used to wake me up fairly often. About half the the times she stayed over at my place."

"Did she ever have nightmares?"

"Sometimes. About her mom mostly, since she was in the hospital around that time."

"Makes sense, I guess."

"Anyway...glad she's doing better."

Steph placed the book on the coffee table, and Max now saw that it was a manual for one of the several tabletop RPGs Steph owned, and that it had a short stack papers inserted inside the front cover.

"Remember that role-playing group I was thinking of starting?" Steph asked. "Are you still interested?"

"Yeah, of course," Max replied.

"There's a couple of people from the library who are up for it; they said they might be able to recruit some of their friends too. I thought I'd give you an intro to this game; you said it'd been a while since you had played RPGs, right?"

Max nodded. "To make things simpler...it's probably best if you just explain it to me as though I'm a total newb."

Steph grinned. "The first step is normally to make a character sheet. But that's a whole lesson in itself, so for now, just pick a premade one so we can get into the actual rules of the game itself." She pulled out the stack of papers from the manual and handed them to Max.

Max glanced through the character sheets one by one. Dwarf warrior, gnome paladin, human rogue...She stopped when she came to one that looked more interesting than the others. It was for an elf barbarian. Pulling out the sheet from the rest of the stack, she took a closer look.

Max sounded out each syllable of the name listed on the character sheet. "Call-uh-mast-ee-uh?"

Steph's grin faltered. "Callamastia?...Okay."

"...Should I pick a different one?"

"No, it's fine." Steph reasserted her grin. "She's actually a great one for beginners."

She now held up a small object clasped between her thumb and forefinger. "This is what we call the D20 die. It's the most important tool in the game..."


	6. Callamastia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they bond over games, Steph reveals more than one surprising thing to Max.

"Your blood is now spraying out in spurts; one more hit and you may not walk away alive from this battle," Steph narrated, glancing at the notebook where she had laid out the design for her campaign. "Ghadzok raises his greatsword yet again."

"Umm...I roll a reflex save!" Max rolled the D20; it came up 15. "Yes!"

"Ghadzok's swing barely misses, striking the ground so hard that you feel it shake underneath you."

"Annihilation Strike!" Max shouted. "Wait, I can do that, right?"

"You can, but you'll have to roll high because you have a five point penalty to your attack. You know, with your left arm being gone and all."

Max rolled again. "Twenty, holy shit, YES!"

"You swing the axe toward Ghadzok's midsection, and then...nothing happens."

"What?! Bullshit, I rolled a twenty!"

"Nothing happens...for a moment," continued Steph. "It appears you may have missed. Ghadzog starts to raise his greatsword again...and then a red, diagonal line appears at his midsection, and the top off of his body slowly slides off. Both halves collapse to the ground, blood and intestines going everywhere."

"Gross," Max giggled.

"The other orcs gasp and scream in horror before turning and running for their lives. And thus ends the reign of terror of Ghadzok Skull Crusher, the Orc King of Ugraria. With no enemies left to fight, you are successfully able to apply a tourniquet to the stump and walk away to fight another day."

"Awesome! Is that the end of the campaign?"

Steph smiled and closed the notebook. "That's it. Congratulations."

Max held up her character sheet. "I know what you said about creating a character, but can I keep using Callamastia?"

Steph's smiled faltered for the second time that evening. "...Sure."

The auburn-haired woman's hesitancy did not escape Max's notice. "... _Are_ you sure? I don't mind creating a new character if that's what's preferred."

"Oh, no, it's okay. It's just...that character brought back some memories that's all. She actually belonged to someone I used to know from Blackwell."

"Mikey?"

"No, it was a girl. She played with me and Mikey a few times back at Blackwell. In fact, she was the one who named the character—I liked the name so much I ended up writing it on the sheet. No one else has used it since...not until you."

"I'm guessing you fell out of contact after graduation?"

"No. Well, that and she was expelled...and then later passed away. Murdered on the Blackwell campus, actually. Mikey saw it in the news and sent me the article. You would have been going there when it happened, wouldn't you?"

Max's mouth fell open. "Chloe Price?"

The auburn-haired woman nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Did you know her?"

Max took a deep breath. "About that..."

Over the next few minutes, Max gave Steph a summary of her friendship with Chloe: how they had been best friends for about as long as they could remember, how Max's family had moved away only days after William had died, how they had fallen out of touch and not contacted one another for years.

Then Max went into that fateful day at Blackwell. She did not tell Steph about her powers, of course, nor did she tell her about The Week That Wasn't, but rather just how events played out in the current timeline: Going into the bathroom, hiding behind the stall when Nathan came in, hearing Chloe confront him, and finally, hearing the gunshot, the sound of the body falling, Nathan's words of immediate regret. This time it was Steph's mouth that dropped open when she realized that Max was the anonymous girl the news had reported as being in the restroom when the crime occurred.

"That...was you?"

Max nodded. "It was. David Madsen—he was the head security guard at the time—spoke to the police, made sure they kept my name from being released to the media. I gave them a statement, but I didn't have to testify in court, thank god, 'cause Nathan took a plea deal."

"My god, Max...I had no idea. I am so sorry. If I had known, I—I..."

"It's fine, Steph, you had no way of knowing."

"Look...about the character..."

"I'd still like to use Callamastia, if that's okay."

"...Are you sure?"

Max smiled. "Yeah. It would be an honor to carry on Chloe's legacy with her character."

Steph's face lit up. "Well, in that case...welcome to Avernon, Callamastia!"

* * *

"There you go. See? You're not so bad at this!" said Steph, slapping Max on the back.

Getting Joel, Tess, and Ellie out of the ruined Boston museum was tricky, but Max had been able to pull it off without having to pass the controller back to the auburn-haired woman this time. She had gotten noticeably better at stealth kills.

"I'm playing on Easy difficulty, though," Max said.

"That's how I did it the first time I ever played," Steph replied. "Some people want a challenge, others just want to enjoy the story, especially if they have jobs and responsibilities and don't have time to get good. And there is no shame in that."

Max smiled briefly, thought a moment, paused the game. Setting the controller on the coffee table, she turned to Steph. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"What? Oh...heh. You asked me earlier about Taylor's anxiety attacks. I remember she once told me that she had been having them since before Blackwell, so I know it didn't start with her mother's illness. Did she ever tell you when it started? Or how?"

A silence follows for several seconds before Steph replies. "I don't know the full story, but I think it was a combination of things. Mainly involving her mom and her grandfather."

"Her grandfather?" Max did not recall Taylor ever mentioning him before. She hesitated. "Did he...did something happen with him?"

"If you're asking what I think you're asking, then no. Taylor loved him and never had a bad word to say about him. Like I said, I don't know the full story, but I know that, somehow, there was a falling out between Taylor and her mom."

"A...falling out?"

Steph nodded. "Taylor was vague on the details, and I didn't press her on them. All I know is, whatever happened, it was bad enough that Taylor ended up living with her grandfather for a while."

"Oh my god, really?" Max tried to remember if Taylor had ever mentioned or even hinted at any of this, and was pretty certain she hadn't. "But she's always told me how much she loved and cared for her mom!"

"And she did. They reconciled before she starting attending Blackwell. But it wasn't easy."

"God. I had no idea," said Max, wondering what had happened. _Was her mom neglectful? Maybe had a drug or alcohol problem for a while?_ The number of guesses grew. Why had Taylor never told her?

Steph was again silent for a moment before speaking. "Max...Taylor didn't exactly swear me to secrecy, but I think I might've overstepped my bounds by telling you any of this, especially if she has never mentioned it to you. Could you not bring this up to her? Not in a way that implicates me, at least?"

Max nodded. "Not a word. I promise."

"Thanks." The auburn-haired woman gestured at the TV, where the game's pause screen was still displayed. "Shall we resume?"

* * *

Over the next couple weeks, Max and Taylor (the former admittedly far more than the latter) spent more time with Steph. They took up Steph's offer to watch Blade Runner on her new television, the three of them sitting next to one another on the couch with a large bowl of popcorn, three beers, and a box of tissues resting on the coffee table. Max had been apprehensive about whether Taylor (who had never seen the film before) would enjoy it, so she was pleasantly surprised when Taylor watched intently, even shushing Max at one point when the brunette asked if she wanted more popcorn. In the end, all three women were dabbing their faces with tissues after Rutger Hauer's "tears in rain" monologue. Max agreed afterward with Steph that the Final Cut was indeed superior to the theatrical version.

Later, Max and Taylor invited Steph over for Chinese takeout while they watched episodes of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer._ By this point, Taylor and Max were nearly halfway through the fourth season, and the two episodes they watched tonight were "Something Blue" and "Hush," the former of which was hilarious and the latter scary but amazing. Taylor mentioned that a new character introduced during "Hush"—a pretty woman by the name of Tara—would become more important over the course of the series. Max was not surprised to learn that Steph was actually the one who had introduced Taylor to the series in the first place and had watched it multiple times.

The auburn-haired woman in turn invited them over for Indian cuisine which she herself made. It was delicious enough that Max commented at one point that Steph should have considered a culinary career.

Along with Steph, Max was one of the five founding members of their new roleplaying group, the other three being two of Steph's libary coworkers, Bill and Tricia, plus Bill's wife Joni.

True to her word, Max did not bring up to Taylor what Steph had told her about the blonde's past. However, after what Steph had previously told Max about Taylor being over the night after Steph moved in, Max observed how the other two women interacted whenever the three of them were together. While there was nothing overt, there was more than one look that the blonde and the auburn-haired woman shared between them, as if they were hiding something. The brunette said nothing in the meantime, only continued to make mental notes for later reference as she attempted to decipher their body language.

At that time, Max had no idea of the consequences that would soon result over the next few weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally intended for this fic to be ten chapters or less. I have realized that at the rate I'm going, it's likely going to end up being a good deal longer than that. I am also planning to create a separate fic (taking place within the same continuity) that will feature chapters focusing on Taylor's life growing up.
> 
> I know the main story so far has taken place entirely in or near two adjacent apartments. I promise you that this will soon change.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Never Have I Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Steph play a risky game.

"Let's see...never have I ever...lived in Seattle."

Max made a face. "Seriously?! That's not fair!"

Steph grinned wickedly. "Rules are rules, Max. Drink up."

Max took a small sip of her wine. "Well, if that's how we're playing it, then...never have I played tabletop games at the Blackwell picnic tables."

"I set myself up for that one," Steph admitted, taking a larger sip of her beer. The two women sat at opposite ends of her couch facing one another. It would be hours yet before Taylor came home.

"Let's see," Steph resumed. "Never have I ever...slept with a man."

Max took a sip, then looked at Steph with slight surprise. "Really?"

"Nope, I've known I liked girls since I was eleven. How about you?"

"I'm bi—or maybe pan? Not sure. Anyway, it was with one guy back in college. He turned out to be an asshole."

"Did he cheat on you?"

"No, that would have been easier to deal with. He was really religious, which I was okay with, but I didn't realize until later how much of a nutcase he was. It wasn't until after we had sex that when he showed his true colors. He got really weird, started talking marriage plans, kept trying to get me to go to church with him even after I made it clear I wasn't interested. And that was before the homophobia."

"Let me guess...he had no problem with having premarital sex, but thought being gay was a sin?"

"Pretty much."

"Religious hypocrisy in a nutshell."

"It's a long story. I think it was my turn?" Max asked.

"Uh, yeah. Go ahead."

"Let's see...never have I ever...gotten straight A's for one semester."

Steph raised an eyebrow. "Really, Max?" She took another sip.

Max grinned. "Hey, you have no right to complain after bringing up Seattle. At least this time I was making a guess...an educated one."

"Fair enough," Steph replied. "Tell you what, I'll make it up to you by using something I have to drink on, too. Never have I ever...had a stalker."

Both women drank this time.

"Same guy you dated in college?" asked Steph.

"Yeah, he didn't take the breakup so well. What about yours?"

"It was back in San Francisco. I actually mentioned it to Taylor that night after you helped me move in—don't know if she told you or not."

"Go ahead and remind me," said Max, maintaining a poker face.

"I didn't give her a lot of details. It was someone from my workplace...a senior programmer on my team. We got to know each other a little better while working on a project together with two other teammates; he was the technical lead on the project. He wasn't my official mentor, but he acted as one, taught me a lot. Seemed like a very nice guy. Not bad looking either; he had a picture of his wife—beautiful woman—and his two kids which he kept at his desk.

"Anyway, one Friday, he asked if I wanted to go out for drinks with the project team after work to celebrate our progress; I said yes. But when I showed up, it was just him and me. He said the other two guys hadn't been able to make it; supposedly one had already made other plans, and the other had an unexpected family emergency—something like that. I knew he was married, so I thought nothing of it. We had a few beers and some hot wings; it was actually a good time. He covered the check—insisted on it, said it was his duty as the tech lead—and then, as we were walking out the door, it happened."

"What happened?" Max asked.

"He invited me over to his place—said the wife and kids were out of town for the weekend. And that was when I realized it."

"Realized...?" Max asked.

"That he had never invited the other two guys."

"Oh god. What did you do then?" Max dreaded the answer.

"I politely declined. He didn't press me on it then—thank God—but after that night, I decided to keep my relationship with him professional. I'd be polite and work with him on the project, but I wasn't going to go out of my way to be friendly...didn't want to send the wrong signals, you know? But that didn't stop him from trying to get me to go out with him again. He would send me texts—definitely suggestive, but I don't know if anyone else would have looked at them and considered them outright inappropriate. He would hover by my desk for ten, fifteen minutes, maybe longer, chatting me up while I was clearly trying to get work done, that sort of thing. At one point he even showed up to my front door, said he happened to be in the neighborhood and wanted to go out for drinks...I'm not sure how he even got my address."

"Oh my god, Steph," Max whispered. "I'm guessing you never told him that you're gay? Not that you should have had to."

"No, but I wish I had. Maybe it wouldn't have done any good though. Anyway, that was when I bought the shotgun—I assume Taylor told you about that as well? In case he ever decided to go a couple steps further. Maybe I overreacted, I don't know. He never assaulted or threatened me—not directly, anyway. But I was scared, both for my physical well-being and my career."

"I don't blame you," said Max. "I'd be really nervous, too, especially if it was someone I worked with. So what happened next?"

"I finally reported him to HR."

"And did that end it?"

The auburn-haired woman sighed. "Yes and no. Yes in that he finally got the message and left me alone."

"...I'm gathering that he wasn't fired. Was he at least punished in some way?"

Steph shook her head. "Nope. I actually looked up his LinkedIn profile the other day; not only is he still there, he actually got a promotion."

Max's mouth dropped open. "You're shitting me!"

"I wish," Steph said. "I hope he at least learned his lesson and isn't doing this shit to other women, but I'm not optimistic. I could forgive the company if I knew they had at least investigated my claims. Unfortunately, HR is there to protect the company, not its employees; they never even followed up with me after the report. He had been with the company a lot longer than me and was a lot more popular.

"I don't know if he told others about what happened— _his_ version of it, I mean—or if someone from HR leaked something, or if my brain was just fucking with me, but I noticed that a lot of the people working in my area seemed to be treating me differently after that whole mess."

"How so?" Max asked.

"Little things, nothing obvious. Not replying when I said good morning, going quiet when I entered the room, brushing off my input during meetings, that sort of thing. I transferred to another team, hoping I could get away from it, but many people in the company had worked with him before, and people talk, you know? I became depressed, even starting having suicidal thoughts. The final straw was when another entry level programmer in my area—a guy who not only had started months after me, but who I knew was nowhere near as good as I was—got a promotion and I didn't. That was when I finally realized that I had to get the fuck out of there. I put in my two weeks notice the next day. I didn't even bother with trying to secure another job first."

"Oh my god," Max said. "I'm so sorry, Steph. Is that why you left the Bay Area?"

Steph shrugged. "Among other reasons. I love the Bay Area, and I know many companies in Silicon Valley are probably a lot better than the one I was at. But working in corporate America sucks, and being a woman in an overwhelmingly male-dominated industry generally isn't much fun, either."

"So...are you doing better now?" Max asked.

"Overall, I guess," Steph replied. "Definitely better for my mental health, and I get to work from home and be my own boss. I won't lie though...I don't miss the job or the people, but I do miss the pay. I went from making six figures to having to have two jobs to make rent on an old single-bedroom apartment." She took a breath. "Sorry, I hope I haven't ruined our game."

"What? Oh...no, not at all," Max said. "I'm glad you're telling me."

Steph smiled. "Thanks for listening. But enough of the depressing stuff. I think it was your turn?"

"Turn? Oh, right. Hmm...Never have I ever...been skinny dipping with Taylor."

"You too, huh?" Steph commented as they both took a sip.

"I got the impression it's one of her favorite activities."

"While we're on the topic of her," Steph said, "never have I ever suffered Taylor's death glare when she was annoyed at me about something!"

They both giggled as they drank yet again, and did so repeatedly as they went back and forth.

"Never have I ever had Taylor hog the covers!" Max said.

"Never have I ever been elbowed awake by Taylor for snoring!"

"Never have I ever been woken up by Taylor's farting!"

Steph burst out laughing. "Oh god, she still does that?! I thought it was just me!"

"Let's just say there's a reason the first time I ever suggested burrito night was also the last," Max giggled. "I don't know how that skinny ass of hers is capable of it, but instead of the usual few notes, she was tooting a whole concert that night; I ended up on the couch with the bedroom door closed, and I could _still_ hear it!"

Steph struggled to speak, uttering words between laughs. "I remember...one time she...she stayed over at my parents place...my dog Walter was in the room with us...I got woken up when she let loose...and Walter was whining to be let out!...I had to hold my pillow...to my face so...I wouldn't wake her up...with my laughing!"

Max was laughing so hard now she had to wipe tears from her eyes. "Did...did you tell her?"

"No...didn't have the heart...she couldn't figure out...why poor Walter was so skittish around her the next day!"

Both women collapsed into another fit of laughter.

A moment later, giggles starting to subside, Steph got up from the couch, picking up both her empty beer bottle and Max's empty wine glass. "Want any more?"

"Tempting, but I'd better not." Max grinned. "No telling what could happen!"

Steph winked over shoulder. "Don't threaten me with a good time." Walking into the kitchen, she dropped the bottle into the trash and set the glass in the sink.

As she returned to the couch, one of her sneakers caught on the leg of the coffee table, and she yelped as she tripped and fell face forward onto the couch. Her body fell on top of Max's, her head colliding with the brunette's jaw.

"Ow!" they said at the same time.

"Are you okay?!" Max asked a moment later, gesturing to Steph's forehead as the auburn-haired woman pulled herself into a sitting position. "I hope that doesn't leave a mark!"

"Am _I_ okay?" Steph saw to her horror that a small part of Max's skin on her jaw was a little redder than usual. "Oh god, I am so so sorry! Are _you_ okay?! Any blurry vision or dizziness?"

"Steph, I'm fine," Max replied.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should go to the ER to be safe! I can't believe I was so careless!"

"I'm fine," Max repeated.

"What about your teeth? Anything chipped?"

"Steph, I told you, I'm fine." Max opened her mouth to show the other woman her teeth. "See? No chips here."

Steph exhaled in relief. "Thank god. Anything I _can_ do to make it better?"

"I don't know...kiss it, I guess?"

Max had been joking at this last remark, and so she was surprised when Steph immediately bent over and planted a brief, dry kiss on her jaw.

"All better?" asked the auburn-haired woman when she pulled back.

"Yeah," Max said in a near-whisper. "My turn!" She leaned forward and planted a kiss of her own on Steph's forehead.

She pulled back, and the two women giggled as they looked into each others' eyes. Then Steph leaned forward and kissed Max lightly on the nose.

"Oh, so that's how we're playing it, huh?" Max said. She leaned forward and did the same to Steph's cheek.

Steph's next kiss landed on her lips.

It was a brief, closed-mouth one, same as the ones which had preceded it, yet this time, a moment of silence followed as the two women looked at each other once more, their smiles giving way to something else entirely.

"I—I'm sorry," Steph began awkwardly. "That was really—"

She was interrupted when Max's lips met hers again, this time in a far more passionate manner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that I have posted a new fic in the Christenfield Saga series, titled "The Early Life of Taylor Christensen". It is a prequel to this fic and the previous ones; it is not necessary to read it to enjoy The Woman Next Door, but consider it a bonus. I will still be writing new chapters of TWND as well as TELoTC. Thanks!


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